


Texts, Meetings and Matters of the Literal Heart

by vividpast



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Era, More Of A, Romance, Romantic Comedy, SPOILER - Terminal Sickness, texts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vividpast/pseuds/vividpast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SLASH! Modern AU. 'Hi, I'm Merlin. Got your number by scrambling mine. I'm extremely bored. Who are you? ' was the text Arthur received at 3 AM. In which there are not-so-clever retorts, unnecessary angsts and a very cliché plot. What more can you wish for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of 3 AM Texts and Annoying Blokes

**Author's Note:**

> Published 08-06-12  
> A/N: Hmm, this was supposed to be a multi-chaptered fic of mine. I have been working on this for months (I kept losing my muse) but I am nowhere near finish. And I promised myself that I am going to post it only if I finish writing all the chapters. But I'm bored~. So this is going to be a boring oneshot for now.
> 
> The thing I have trouble the most is the dialogue because I truly know nothing of social etiquettes. So advice and constructive criticisms are very much welcome.
> 
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Disclaimer: In my sweetest dreams, I owned Colin Mor—I mean, BBC Merlin. Then I had to wake and face reality. :'(
> 
> Enjoy~

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" _~~You've got mail~~"_

The pillow that Arthur was lying on smothered his moan. Blinking in the darkness, his eyes met the glare of his digital clock. 3:15 AM, it said.

"It's too early for this." He mumbled, covering his head with a pillow.

Late night mails were not unusual for him—given his job as the temporary boss of Camelot Corps while his father was ill. It was mostly his secretary telling him about a mess a newbie made that he had to clean or Gwaine's drunken texts. Seriously, why was he even friends with that guy? Oh, yeah, the bastard had been there for him when his mother died.

Suddenly, the memory of the night he grudgingly answered the phone just to hear of his father's accident slammed in his mind.

Closing his eyes briefly and exhaling, he reached for his cellphone. He squinted at the bright light it was making and frowned at the unfamiliar number displayed on the screen. Curious, he opened it.

' _Hi, I'm Merlin. Got your number by scrambling mine. I'm extremely bored. Who are you? :)'_

"What the hell?" Arthur couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. Was this a prank? Was this one of  _Morgana's_  prank? He wouldn't put it past her to get a new SIM card just to annoy him.

But as he stared at the number, it did contain Arthur's—just in a different arrangement. It was either Morgana bought SIM cards just to search for the right one or she was secretly a grey-hat hacker who programmed her own cell to display that number. Huh.

Still, it was three in the morning.

' _Piss off and go die.'_  He sent his reply and proceeded to go back under the comfort of his bed. He had work tomorrow.

" _~~You've got mail~~"_  came not a minute later.

Frowning, Arthur grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

' _No need to be a prat. Just wanted to talk. :-/'_

Growling, Arthur typed,  _'You're the prat. It's fucking 3 in the morning and I got work.'_

Expecting that would be the end of it, he sighed and started to lie down.

" _~~You've got mail~~"_

Cursing, he snatched his phone to switch it to silent mode. But then thought better of it. What if there was an emergency call from the office or from the hospital? He wouldn't want to miss it just because of some irritating wanker.

' _Oh, same time here. You in Portugal, Ireland or UK?'_  he read.

' _What, you've got the whole Greenwich Time memorized? Leave me alone.'_  Arthur tried to be snarky, hoping that the bloke would take the hint and leave him alone.

' _Yes, because I am a GENIUS. Oxford was begging me to go to them but I declined. Too posh. Besides, it's bloody huge. It'll be midday before I get to my first class.'_

Arthur didn't know what came over him. Maybe it was the stress and he was just looking for something to be happy about. No matter what the reason was, he was suddenly gripped by a bout of laughter. He tried to remember the last time he had laughed so hard. Unsurprisingly, he came up with a blank.

Another text came.  _'Or I just Googled "Greenwich Time" and got those three as the result. So Portugal, Ireland or UK? :)'_

Deciding that it couldn't hurt, Arthur answered,  _'Alright. UK. London.'_

' _Seriously? London's a ten-minute ride here. O.O Wow. Coincidence or fate?'_

Raising a brow, then, realizing that the intended recipient can't see him, Arthur replied,  _'You sound as if we're soul mates. Are you coming on to me?'_

' _Yes, I usually flirt with strangers whom I know nothing about. Not even the name or gender.'_ He didn't know how but Arthur could detect the dripping sarcasm in the words.  _'Heck, for all I know, you could be a fat snot-nosed brat who got ahold of daddy's phone.'_

Slightly offended, Arthur huffed.  _'My name's Arthur. And I'll have you know that I'm fighting FIT and bleedin' GORGEOUS for a 27-year-old.'_

' _See why I'm a genius? Got your name, description, attitude (which is prattish with a side of arrogant) and gender all in one text. Except if Arthur is actually a short name for Arthuriana or Marthura or Larthurnette or something.'_

He didn't know whether to burst out laughing or be thoroughly annoyed at that. He involuntarily chose the former. Though realizing that he had been manipulated, Arthur found that he didn't care.  _'No parent in their right mind would name their child something as ridiculous as those. And I'm MALE, you idiot. '_ Then, he checked the first message given to him.  _'Besides, who names their child Merlin?'_

' _Only the best parents in the world! Merlin is the most powerful warlock to have ever lived and he was the wise mentor of King Arthur. Wait, you're not shitting me, are you? Is your name really Arthur?'_

He realized what the other, Merlin, was getting at.

' _Maybe you're the one lying. Arthur is a more common name than Merlin.'_

' _Need I point out that I said my name first. Man, that thing about being soul mates is becoming more and more likely. Spooky.'_

' _Don't get any wrong ideas.'_

He and Merlin talked and talked about random things. He learned that Merlin was a fresh college graduate. He took Theater Arts and was dreaming to be a big-time actor. Currently, he was being offered small roles but  _'it's a start of something grand'_  or so he said.

Since his current career isn't enough to pay for his rent, Merlin was also working part-time in a café called The Dragon's Riddle. His boss obviously had no sense in naming things. Merlin agreed.

He learned that Merlin was an only child desperately wanting a sibling he could play and talk with. He clearly didn't know the horrors of having one so Arthur was kind enough to enlighten him by narrating Morgana's many schemes. Merlin was not discouraged. The fool.

He also learned that Merlin's parents died in an accident a couple years back. Arthur tried not to feel guilty for touching the subject. He failed miserably.

He couldn't believe he had just known this bloke a couple hours ago. It felt like he had known him for years. Merlin got his sense of humor, knew what subjects not to ask, knew how to get under his skin, knew how to humble him, knew how to make him blush (the last one was quite a surprise because he hadn't blush since 10-year-old Morgana decided to walk around the house starkers). And he hadn't even met him in person.

Time flew by and Arthur was oblivious to it until his alarm sounded. He then realized that he'd been exchanging texts with this Merlin the whole night. How had that happened? Hitting the snooze button, he stared at the phone in his hand as if it turned alien.

Shaking his head, he got out of bed.

' _Got to work. How about you?'_

It was only after he showered that a message arrived.

' _Nah, I'm currently on a break.'_

Arthur snorted.  _'Or too lazy to get out of bed.'_

' _I am not! Go to work, you sod. And don't let your sexy co-worker distract you.'_  Arthur flushed, not quite believing he had told Merlin about his small attraction to Guinevere, his secretary.  _'I'll text you later, yeah?'_

' _Okay.'_  Contemplating for a moment, Arthur decided to add,  _'You can text me anytime you want.'_

Dressed in an expensive Armani suit, Arthur grabbed the keys to his sleek black sports car. Preparing himself for another long day, he started the car.

" _~~You've got mail~~"_

' _Don't regret offering, Arthur. Expect at least a hundred messages. ;)'_

He smiled and suddenly, the day didn't seem so bad.

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	2. Of Office Gossips and Pretty Faces

 

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_Two weeks later . . ._

"Hey, Val." Owen, a two-year employee in Camelot Corps, elbowed the other man.

With the perpetual bitter expression upon his face, Valiant turned to him. "What?"

"Did you notice something different today? About Mr. Pendragon?"

"Why?"

"This morning, I almost spilled coffee on him."

"And what, he fired you?" Valiant said in a bored tone, his attention on the file on his hands. "Should I call security to escort you?"

"No, that's the thing! I thought for sure that I was going to need a new job. But he just patted me on the shoulder and said—and I quote—'That's alright. No harm done. Be careful next time.'" His tone was one of disbelief, as if the sheer impossibility of it might destroy the universe.

Glancing at the boss' office, Valiant raised a brow. Arthur Pendragon was sitting on his desk, computer propped on one side and an endless pile of documents on the other. His usual neutral expression revealed nothing out of place. However, in the span of one minute, the blonde managed to glance at his BlackBerry a total of five times. Strange as that was, the boss could have just been waiting for an important call.

"And Gwen told me he thanked her! As in, the smile-and-look-in-the-eye-with-sincerity kind of thank you!"

"I'm sure he's just in a good mood."

"His good mood doesn't last an  _hour_. He's been like that for  _days_."

A faint sound resounded loud enough to warrant their attention. They looked back at the boss's office where it originated. It sounded like the blonde's usual "~~You've got mail~~". They watched as their boss dropped every document he's holding and seemed to scramble for his phone. His eagerness provided them a rare view of spectacular clumsiness in which he almost dropped the phone. Then,  _then_ , the most surreal thing happened.

Arthur Pendragon—the most evil (second only to his father), the rudest, most insufferable and short-tempered human being that they had the displeasure of meeting—chuckled. He  _laughed_  over a  _text_.

Valiant and Owen thought that deserved the wide-eyes and jaw-drops they gave it and perhaps more.

Work seemingly forgotten, the blonde leaned back on his armchair and typed a reply to whatever message he received.

"Did you see that? Did you?" Vivian, a shrill lady that was supposed to work on the 17th floor, approached the two men. "There's a pool going on, you know, about the boss' strange behavior."

"Pool?" Valiant perked up at the sound. He always did like gambling.

"Yeah, yeah. Many wagered he's in love. Some said he must have been watching porn on his phone or something funny because no woman can ever stand him." She leered at the blonde. "But I, for one, wouldn't mind having a piece of that."

Valiant and Owen stared at her with open disgust. "Keep your thoughts to yourself."

"I'm betting on the former. That—" Valiant pointed at the blonde's somewhat dreamy expression while staring at the screen of his phone. "—is exactly Owen's face when he thinks of Elena."

Owen punched Valiant's arm at the reminder of his unrequited love. Valiant glared, rubbing the said arm.

Their boss suddenly looked up.

The employees abruptly went to work, some pretending to observe a particular pattern on the floor and an unlucky guy needed to pretend to be sniffing an indoor plant. Sending each of them an unamused glance, the blonde went back to his BlackBerry.

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Arthur was not gay.

At least, he thought he wasn't until he unknowingly started flirting with a man he hasn't even seen yet. He was starting to have doubts about his sexual orientation. But then again, Merlin must be coming off as a girl through his texts that Arthur's senses perceived him as such.

Yes, that must be it.

' _Co-workers are jittery today.'_  He avoided mentioning to Merlin that he was the boss of his own company. He wanted at least one person not to care about his social status, even if he hadn't met him before.  _'Kept looking at me like I have something on my face. Which I have not.'_

' _Maybe your whole face is one big dirt to them :)'_ Was the reply.

Arthur raised a brow.  _'You say such mean things that break my heart.'_ See, totally normal conversation with friends.  _Totally_  not flirting and totally not gay.

 _Oh shut up_ , Arthur told the voice niggling at the back of his mind (because it sounded suspiciously like Morgana).

Arthur then added,  _'How many times do I have to tell you that I'm more GORGEOUS than that Jack Borrowman you always rave about.'_  Putting his inner dilemma aside, Arthur was quite sure that Merlin was gay; based on his texts about various girly things. That, or he's actually a girl. Arthur didn't know which one he preferred.

' _First of all, it's JOHN BARROWMAN (really, how many times do I have to spell it for you?). And second, no one can compare to his gorgeousness. I repeat, NO ONE. Okay, to end this incessant argument, send me a pic so I can judge for myself.'_

The suggestion threw Athur off-guard. Staring wide-eyed at his phone, Arthur contemplated on what to do. He still doesn't trust this Merlin (even though he had told him secrets not even Morgana knew). For all he knew, Merlin could very well be in an insane asylum and if Arthur gave him a picture, he might hunt him down the moment he escapes. Or maybe he's an ex-convict wanting to find a target to kill or something.

So maybe he was over-thinking this.

If worse comes to worst, Arthur had enough money and time for a plastic surgery (though he prefer not to kiss his handsome face goodbye)

Glancing around (and ignoring his employers non-subtle way of eavesdropping), he sighed.

' _Maybe later. They're staring at me again and I can't take a photo while at work. In fact, I'm not supposed to be talking to you at all. You're a very bad influence.'_ Even though he said this, Arthur couldn't help but indulge himself. Maybe, just this once, he can.  _'How about you send me a picture of you first?'_

It was after he sent this that realization dawned. He would be seeing what Merlin looked like—if he agreed, of course. He was excited as well as anxious to know. Although, Arthur just couldn't imagine Merlin being anything but an average-looking bloke.

The reply came five minutes later when in his nerves were scrambling all over the place.  _'Fine. Here'_

Scrolling down, a picture of a cute little boy met his sight. He had messy dark hair, pale skin and stunning blue eyes. His ears were ridiculously huge and charming. He was biting on a large spiral lollipop, eyes wide as he stared at the camera.

' _Bloody hell, are you a fucking—'_  Thinking better of it, he deleted the message and rephrased it with mild words—just in case his suspicions were true.  _'Hey, are you actually a kid? Are you the snot-nosed brat we were mentioning?'_  The notion of it horrified him. He'd been swearing and  _flirting_  with him in his texts.

' _Haha, got you good, didn't I? That was me when I was 8. You didn't say it had to be recent.'_

Arthur rolled his eyes.  _'I thought that was common sense. I forgot that you weren't born with that. Send me a recent pic then.'_

While waiting for an answer, he saved the image of the little boy on his memory card. Well, it was kinda adorable (and he was thinking of this in a non-pedophilic way). He has got to show this to Morgana. On second thought, no. The witch would probably get Merlin's phone number and suffocate him with her non-stop texts.

' _Alright'_ came in.

What he saw took his breath away.

Merlin was nothing he expected. The young man in the feature bore a bit of resemblance to the previous picture of the boy. Messy raven locks draping over endearingly large ears, the pale skin almost translucent. His cheekbones was so prominent and sharp, they could cut glass. Slender fingers interlaced each other, hands as dainty as a girl's. A smile lit up his face, the same fascinating blue eyes crinkling.

Merlin was nothing he expected because he was  _perfect_.

Arthur's mouth went dry, tracing the image with his finger. Shaking himself out of the stupor, he asked,  _'Is this really you? If it is, your ears are ridiculous.'_  He hoped this wasn't one of Merlin's jokes.

He saved the picture in his memory card.

' _You're a proper prat, you know. :-/ My ears are awesome.'_

' _Yeah, awesome like Dumbo's. But seriously, is this you?'_

' _What, am I so dazzling you can't believe it? It's me. Now, send me yours.'_

Glancing around once again, he found that most of the employees had stopped trying to see through his office. Deciding it couldn't harm anyone, he set his phone in camera mode. An arm's length away, he clicked the button and heard the snapping sound of the picture being taken.

He viewed it, frowned as he saw his hair sticking up in different directions and his face looking like he was constipated. He never was the photogenic type. He shaped his hair down, set his shoulders and settled for a neutral expression as he took another picture.

Murmurs burst forth from the other side of the office. His head whipped on that side, glaring at the non-too-furtive whisperings of his employees. They promptly shut up and went back to work.

Groaning in exasperation, he sent the picture with the message,  _'Great. You've embarrassed me in front of my co-workers. Satisfied?'_

It took a while before another text to come in.  _'Did the boss catch you? If so, I am very satisfied. :D'_  Arthur almost laughed at that. If only Merlin knows.  _'On another note, are you sure this isn't a pic of a commercial model? You didn't get this in Google or Yahoo, did you? I wouldn't put it past you to do that just to impress me.'_

The blonde smiled a Cheshire grin.  _'Yes that is me. You, insisting it's a pic of a model, mean you think I am GORGEOUS. And why in the world would I want to impress you?'_

' _So maybe you're a bit on the attractive side. But you're attitude certainly pulled you down. And yes, you would want to impress me because I'm the only one you know that isn't easily impressed by your awesomeness or something.'_

Humming, Arthur silently agreed on Merlin's last point—not that he'd ever admit that. People around him are easily impressed (or intimidated) by his looks or skills.

Arthur glared again at the employees still trying to look through his office. Damn it, he should be working. There were still a lot of things to do.

' _I got to get back to work. Later.'_  He sent.

' _Okay. Bye, you dollophead.'_

' _A new nickname? I'm pretty sure that's not in the English dictionary.'_

' _I'm so creative that even the dictionary doesn't have the words to limit my boundless imagination.'_

' _You know, there's this idiom you remind me of. Maybe you've heard of it. It's 'blowing his own trumpet.''_

' _Oh, what a coincidence. I was thinking of an expression you remind me of too. It's called 'pot calling kettle black'.'_

Smiling, the blonde typed his own retort.

That day, Arthur Pendragon didn't get any work done.

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	3. Of Annoying and Protective Sisters

"Spill."

Arthur looked up from the document he was reading and wished he didn't. The deceptively beautiful face of his sister greeted him. She was leaning on his desk, far too close to him that he would have liked.

He wrinkled his nose. "What do you want, Morgs? And get your mug out of my face."

Huffing, she straightened, glaring at him through kohl-lined eyes. She crossed her arms, raising a brow at him. He felt like a little kid under her gaze and he bristled.

"I heard you've got a girlfriend." She said, tone nonchalant but he can see in her eyes that her interests were piqued.

Immediately, Merlin's picture came to mind. He fought down the urge to blush at thought of  _Merlin_ —a guy he has never even met—being his lover. Why was his mind playing tricks on him? Merlin's just his mate, a friend who could understand him, who didn't care about his social status, who was honest and naïve, who was astoundingly stunning, who—So maybe he had a wee bit of a crush on him. But it would fade away. Surely. Maybe.

Realizing he was taking too long to answer, he stared at her, showing her how absurd he thought the suggestion was. "You know I don't have time for a love life."

Memories of his father, lying on the hospital bed, flashed in his mind's eye. His father had looked so vulnerable with all the machines hooked up to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking the images away. He massaged his temples, the headache from this morning coming to the forefront of his mind.

Like the witch she is, Morgana sensed his distress and seemed almost sympathetic. She granted him a moment of silence. She too had it hard as with her job as the overseeing organizer for Camelot Corps. But Morgana had always been stronger than him in everything—not that she'd tell her that. Plus, Arthur had a much closer relationship with his father (or as close as you can be with Uther Pendragon as your dad) than Morgana.

"You alright?" The almost concern tone of her voice warranted a suspicious look. Morgana was unperturbed.

"Fine. Just a headache."

Assessing him for a minute, Morgana continued. "Well, anyway, Gwen says otherwise." She pointed at the general direction of his secretary's desk. "She said you're acting as if you're in the clouds, works as slow as a snail and being nice to everyone!"

"I'm always nice." He said reasonably. He saw Morgana roll her eyes so hard that they almost fell off.

"We're worried that the stress got to you and made you insane." She stared at him with mock anxiousness. Then, a smile belied her words. "I can take over the company if you want."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "No, I have not gone mad. And there's no girl. Not that it's any of your business anyway." He waved her away, hoping she would get the hint. "And imagining the company in your hands gives me the most horrible nightmares."

"Arthur, you know you can't lie to me. You're hiding something." Morgana stared some more, probably hoping he would crumble and confess.

Arthur is not called a Pendragon for nothing. "I am not lying, Morgana. I told you, there is no-"

" _~~You've got mail~~"_

Merlin had the worst timing in the universe.

It may not be Merlin, a part of Arthur's brain thought. The guy isn't the only who had Arthur's phone number after all. However, for the past two months, Arthur had this ridiculous notion that his phone was for the purpose of communicating with Merlin and that alone.

Yes, he's in deep shit.

The phone was lying on his desk, between him and his sister. Both Pendragons stared at it and shared a moment of confused and shock silence.

"Morgana . . ."

When their brains caught up, the siblings simultaneously started reaching for the phone. Unfortunately for Arthur, his sister had quicker reflexes than him. Cursing, he went around the desk to snatch his phone back.

Morgana frowned at the picture of a cute little boy on the display screen and above it says, 'Merlin the Idiot'. Moving farther away from the furious man that was her brother, she opened the mail.

' _Arthur, I'm having a heated debate here. Who is the better Doctor, David Tennant or Matt Smith? If you don't know what I'm talking about AGAIN, you are not a proper British citizen. Or have been living under a rock._

_I know you sleep, like, five hours a day and I tried to tell you that that isn't healthy (the day that you listen to me is the day you will realize how wise and awesome I am). Fact: 10 hours of sleep = rejuvenated_ _feeling_ _with no headache. Even Superman does it, you know, so no need to worry about appearing human. Won't be texting you tonight so get some sleep, prat. Eat some fruits and avoid working in the dark. ;)'_

Morgana's brows rose to her hairline as she finished reading. Arthur jerkily grabbed the phone from her. Reading the message, Arthur couldn't help but smile at Merlin's eccentric questions and surprising thoughtfulness. And what do you know; it  _was_  from Merlin. Then, he remembered that his evil witch of a sister had read the same text.

"This is not what it looks like."

"Oh?" Morgana asked in an incredibly irritating tone, an amused smile on her face. "Because it looks to me that Gwen was wrong."

Arthur blinked. "If so, it's exactly what it looks like."

Morgana's smile grew wider (something Arthur hadn't thought possible), showing a lot of teeth. "Gwen told me it was a  _girlfriend_  but clearly your inclination has changed over time for it to be a _boyfriend_."

The blonde spluttered. "What? I—It isn't—That was—I haven't got—Merlin isn't my—Damn it, Morgana, I'm not gay!" Well, that was convincing.

Staring at him with a lifted brow, Morgana drawled out, "Uh-uhuh. So you just let people call you a—what was that?— _prat_?"

"No! I—" Arthur really had no reply to that. "I—Hmm, I let Gwaine call me a Princess." Yup, he could have had a better retort than that.

Morgana burst out cackling—something inappropriate for a lady in her status to do. Arthur's ears burned with embarrassment.

Arthur shot her a glare and proceeded to stomp—walk! He was not an immature child!—towards his desk. Sitting down, he pointedly ignored her as he picked up the documents he was skimming over. His hands itched to reply to Merlin's text but not just yet. He would wait until his sister had left.

"So," The blonde suppressed a growl as Morgana refused to leave him alone. "Where did you two meet?"

"We haven't met." He replied curtly.

"What?"

Sighing in resignation, he put down the papers. "He texted me one night and we hit off. And we're just  _text mates_ , Morgs."

Morgana's eyes widened. "It's not one of those stalkers, is it?"

"No." Arthur winced as he remembered that certain incident. But somehow, it felt wrong to imagine  _Merlin_  as that kind of guy. "He's not."

Unconvinced, his sister continued on drilling him about Merlin; asking how it all started, what kind of information he's been telling him, and how would Arthur know he isn't one of those psychos. Arthur defended Merlin throughout their heated argument because Merlin isn't that kind of person. He didn't know how he knew, just that he knew and  _believed_  that. Merlin was honest, cheeky, insufferable, annoying and maybe a bit lovable.

Morgana was relentless, giving him logical and even illogical reasons to prove her point. After a couple of minutes of arguing, Arthur had had enough.

He rose from his seat and held out his palm. "Fine, give me your cell!"

Taken aback, Morgana simply stared at him. "What?"

"Just give it to me!"

After a moment of narrowed eyes, his sister fished her cellphone and cautiously placed it on his palm. Then, he frowned as if he realized he had yet to memorize Merlin's number. Well, it was too much trouble to do so when it was saved in his phone's memory. Getting his own phone, he searched for the information and saved the number on Morgana's cellphone.

"You can text him yourself." He gave the cell back to a bemused Morgana.

". . . Why?" she asked slowly.

"Because I want to prove my point. You won't understand until you talk to him yourself."

' _Gave your number to Morgana. I am not sympathetic of what would become of you.'_  He sent Merlin a warning because he knew his sister would be merciless with him.

He really  _really_  hoped Morgana wouldn't scare Merlin off. If she did, who else could he text that was as insolent and fun to banter with as Merlin? (And the fact that his heart soared whenever he received a particularly flirty text from Merlin had nothing to do with it.)

"You really believed in this Merlin." Morgana looked at him thoughtfully. He gazed steadily back. She glanced at her own phone. "Alright, I'll give him the benefit of doubt. We'll see if this guy is who you  _think_  he is."

With that, she turned on her stiletto heels and swiftly headed for the door. Arthur sighed in relief. Pausing midway through the opened door, Morgana turned to him with a straight face that was obviously hiding her inner delight.

"By the way, tell him Matt Smith is  _definitely_  the best. The isn't a doubt about that."

The next day, Morgana practically flew into his office. Employees gave her strange looks as she breezed by but she gave no indication she cared. Arthur narrowed his eyes at her.

With a big grin on her face and an odd light in her eyes, she said,

"I give you my blessing. When are you going to propose?"

Arthur hit his head on the desk with a groan, toppling a stack of papers. Sure, he  _had_  proven his point but . . .

What's worse than a Protective!Morgana is a Fangirl!Morgana.

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	4. Of Winning Bets and Moving Plots

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Arthur Pendragon knew that his sister tells everything to Gwen. He also knew that this thing she found out was something Morgana would happily spread around. He just hoped the witch doesn't twist the story into something it was not.

He was sorely disappointed.

Morgana, after her amazing flight to the boss' office, had talked rather loudly with Gwen about their boss' not-so-secret lover.

"What? No way." Gwen denied, wide-eyed as she looked for any kind of a jest on Morgana's face.

"No, really." Morgana nodded sagely. "Arthur's boyfriend was so charming. And I saw a picture! He was so adorable!" Morgana practically shouted, eyes sweeping over the bent postures of the clerks.

All ears perked up at that.  _THUD_  was the sound of many papers crashing to the ground (or perhaps someone fainting?). The ringing of the telephones was ignored in favor of slowly turning to Morgana with horrified faces. Silence ensued.

Their thoughts could not get past,  _Oh my God_  as their brains tried to process (or deny) the words they had heard.

Morgana coolly stared at them. "What are you lot looking at? Get back to work."

The employees stifled an "eep" as they sharply went back to their own businesses. Morgana can be more frightening than her brother (if her brother had the tyranny of a king, Morgana would be the devil himself) if the wrong buttons were pushed.

The Pendragon turned back to Gwen. "So, anyway, his name is Merlin."

Gwen let out a laugh. Some clerks failed to smother theirs.

"Yeah, I know. Like King Arthur and his wizard Merlin, right? Apparently, he's a small-time actor planning to get big. But with a face and charisma like that, I have no doubt that his debut will come sooner than he thinks. And . . ." Morgana continued, smirking as she noticed that the whole floor was silent and everyone was hanging on every word she said.

Gossip spread like wildfire throughout the whole building. By the end of the day, the workers of Camelot Corps knew everything there was to know (or everything Morgana had said about him) about their boss' future husband and the organizer's future brother-in-law.

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"This is quite unexpected." One Elena Godwyn said in the midst of drinking her coffee.

Her actions, predictably, caused the molten drink to drip on her disheveled clothes. She mutters a mild curse, accepting the napkin Owen offered her. Really, that guy was such a good friend.

"Okay, everyone, pay up!" Owen shouted loud enough for the whole floor of personnel to hear.

The employees released a groan in unison, fishing out their wallets and getting their respective money. Some muttered, "fangirls, really", others "Wish I too had a gaydar". Owen glared at those who were hesitant in paying and who were complaining too much. At this, most hurriedly dropped their money on Elena's desk and scurried away. Valiant just growled and grudgingly placed the bills.

Remember that pool we were mentioning? Yes, many wagered their boss, Arthur Pendragon, was head over hills and impossibly in love. However, Elena was the only person who specified that it might be bloke. It was just a slip of the tongue for Elena but she stood by her words, not really expecting to be right.

As the pile of money increased in size, Elena was thinking that maybe she would be rich by the end of the day.

Elena started approaching her desk (where more personnel were dropping their bills) and tripped on mid-air, as always. The other people didn't even bat an eyelid. The girl was familiar with the blue-carpeted floor as she often found herself sprawled on top of it. She just didn't think her face would meet it again so soon.

And suddenly, a strong pair of arms caught her. Looking up through her messy blonde locks, Elena found herself face-to-face with her best friend, Owen.

"Uh, er—Yo-You should be more careful, Elena." Owen stuttered out, releasing his hold on her as soon as she regained her footing. His face colored slightly.

"Wow, you have quick reflexes." Elena praised. "You're the first one to ever catch me when I'm falling." Elena smiled goofily at him and he happily smiled back. "I knew you were my best friend for a reason."

Owen's smile became strained.

Valiant snickered and quickly turned it into cough when Elena turned to him.

Other observant employees snorted and shook their heads. Elena cocked her head to the side in confusion.

"Well, let's count your winnings, shall we?" Owen said before anyone else showed his or her reaction.

He led Elena to her desk and sat her down. He took another chair and settled down across her. Elena started counting the money she had won, all the while wondering at the stray word she caught. What did 'friendzoned' mean?

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' _I thought your sister was gonna eat me alive! O.O But suddenly, she did 180-degree-turn. She was so nice and I can't imagine her doing all the things you told me.'_

Arthur couldn't help but be curious.  _'What did you tell her? Morgana doesn't warm up to just anybody. You must have done something.'_

" _I may have mentioned one or two of your embarrassing secrets. She then decided that I was an ally in her cause.'_

' _You what! ? Merlin, I thought I could trust you.'_  Images of future pranks and incessant teasing filled Arthur's whole being with dread.

' _It was a noble sacrifice, Arthur. Your dignity in exchange for my life.'_

' _I will take that life away from you. I will hunt you down to the ends of the world and wring that life out of you.'_

' _So melodramatic. Fine. I didn't tell her anything, you prat.'_

Arthur let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Thank the merciful heavens for that.

' _Even though she was very persuasive (no, really, she offered me cash and I thought she was mad). I just told her that if she let me be your husband, I would shape you into a proper gentleman who wasn't a prat, remove your sexual frustrations so you wouldn't take it out of the employees, and adopt cute little children that I would let her spoil. That and get her many posters of Doctor Who with autographs from Matt Smith when I get famous enough to meet him. :D'_

The image that Merlin painted was an incredibly tempting one and  _what the hell was he thinking_. Arthur shook the thoughts out of his head before they got any weirder.

He glared at his phone and momentarily considered sending a picture of his glare to make it more effective.  _'So that's where she got that idea. I hate you. I really do. Morgana has been annoying the hell out of me, asking about weddings and adopted nieces and nephews. It's your fault.'_

' _No, she brought it up. She said you're getting too old and needs to settle down.'_

' _27 is not old. :( '_

' _It is, actually. And did you just use an emoticon? O.o The world is coming to a bitter end!'_

' _Shut up. I am allowed to use emoticons whenever I want.'_  Arthur was about to send this when his phone rang.

The number displayed was one of a hospital's—his father's hospital. It had been a few weeks ago since he last heard from them and it was a couple of weeks before that he'd last visited his father. He didn't want to see his father looking so exposed so decided to see less of him as possible.

A growing sense of trepidation gnawed at him as he pressed the answer button.

"Arthur Pendragon speaking." Arthur said, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible.

" _Arthur."_  Dr. Gaius, his father's personal doctor, greeted.  _"There's a new development on your father's condition."_

The blonde tried to draw a conclusion based on the doctor's tone or voice. But Gaius was an expert on the whole neutral thing so Arthur didn't know whether it was good or bad news.

"Cut the suspense, Gaius, and tell it to me straight." Arthur didn't know if his nerves could take more of this. Hope blossomed in his chest as part of him expected to hear that his father had woken up and would be getting better. The other half of him dreaded what he was about to hear.

" _I believe that you should come to the hospital. This isn't something we can talk over the phone. Bring Morgana with you. Both of you should hear this."_

The carefully chosen words did it for Arthur. Whatever he was hearing later on would be anything but good. Suddenly, the air was knocked out of him. He swallowed, trying to get himself to speak.

After a moment, he successfully managed a "Very well. We'll be there."

The line clicked. Arthur was left staring into thin air, wondering if he could face the news waiting for him.

Steeling himself, Arthur rose to his feet and grabbed his coat. Just as he was about to text Morgana, his phone signaled an incoming text.

' _Hey, you still there? Did you get mug or something? If so, hey thief! I'm Merlin. Got the number of the phone you stole by scrambling mine. I'm extremely bored. Who are you? :)'_

Arthur couldn't help but give a small smile at the reminder of Merlin; Merlin who continued on even when he lost his parents so suddenly, who held on and strived forward even if he had no one else to turn to. The notion of him gave Arthur the courage he needed to face his own problems.

' _Haha, very funny. Something came up and I won't be able to reply back to your messages for a while. Kay?'_  Arthur knew he often snap when under stress and he did not want to lash out on Merlin—which was sure to happen when he learns the truth about his father's condition. He didn't want to lose contact with him.

' _Okay. Won't text you for a while. Good luck :)'_  Merlin sent as if he sensed that Arthur was in some kind of dilemma. Maybe, Merlin was psychic.

Sighing, Arthur ran a hand through his hair. He made his way out of his office and told Guinevere to cancel all his appointments for today. His secretary was surprised—for he never misses a day's work—but she complied.

With that, Arthur called Morgana and headed to his car.

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	5. Of Grieving and Comforting Voices

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"Deteriorating? What do you mean?" Morgana demanded, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Dr. Gaius was unperturbed in the face of Morgana's authoritative air. "Your father's condition had worsened over the past few weeks. His brainwave activities are decreasing in each passing day. We believe it's only a matter of time before he becomes brain dead."

Arthur had been prepared for anything. On his way to the hospital, he braced himself for anything the doctor might say. He told Morgana of his thoughts so that she too wouldn't be caught off guard or has any false hopes. Both of them had mentally and emotionally prepared themselves for any scenario and how to handle it—as is the Pendragon way. They can't show any weakness.

"Brain dead." Arthur echoed.

Yes, they had also thought of this scenario. But damn it. As it turns out, nothing can really prepare a person for the real thing.

"But we don't know that for sure, right?" Arthur reasoned, trying and failing to extinguish the pleading note in his voice.

Gaius gave him a pitying look. Arthur resented that look and said as much through his frown. "We are doing the best we can but you have to prepare yourself for the worst."

"How long—" Morgana cleared her throat and let out a shaky breath. "How long do you think he has?"

"Weeks—a few months at most."

Arthur closed his eyes and laid his head on his hands. He couldn't believe it. His father had always been healthy; he didn't drink, he didn't smoke, he had no vices, he eats a healthy diet. He and Morgana had no fear of him dying any time soon.

Arthur felt hollow. It was one of the strangest feelings in the world. It was like something scooped out everything inside of him and left him with nothing but a shell. He knows he should be feeling something. He should be feeling sad, frustrated, upset—anything. The fact that he wasn't scared him the most.

The three shared a moment of tensed silence. There was nothing left to be said.

"May we see him?" Morgana asked, breaking the stillness.

No one commented on the unshed tears on her eyes as they made their way to their father's room.

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It was odd, seeing his father just lying there. He looked like he was only sleeping. Maybe he was. Maybe the doctors just made some kind of mistake and he would wake up and be all commanding and intimidating.

Morgana took the chair beside the bed. She held their father's hand and then, her mask shattered. Tears escaped her eyes and a heart-wrenching sob tore its way out of her throat. She was muttering incoherent words, all of them directed to their father. It made Arthur step back, eyes wide as he saw his sister break down. He had never thought to see that in a million years.

The room was suddenly to stifling for both of them. Arthur felt like he was invading in on a private moment even though he should be joining her. He scrabbled for the door and promptly made his way out, giving Morgana the privacy she needed.

Once outside, he exhaled in relief. He leaned on the door and heard the muffled cries of his sister.

Morgana had always been stronger than him in terms of emotional pain. She would fight off anything that hurts her and laugh boisterously after the whole ordeal. Arthur tried to relate the facts he knew about Morgana to the woman he had just witnessed crying. They were two different people.

Everything was going wrong. His world was tilting on its axis and turning upside-down.

In a sudden fit of anger, Arthur pulled out his fist and drove it hard onto the cream-painted wall. The pain that erupted in his knuckles did little to break him out of his emotionless stupor. Blood flowed freely from his hands, dripping to the floor.

If the drunken bastard who had caused all this wasn't already dead, Arthur would probably pushed him into moving traffic and see how he likes being rammed through. But as it is, Arthur had nothing to direct his anger to but a cement wall. And speaking of which, his hand hurt like hell.

"Shit." He winced, fetching the handkerchief in his pocket and wrapping it around the wound.

Thinking that he had done enough damage to himself, Arthur headed out of the hospital and drove to his flat, mind blissfully blank.

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It was past seven when he arrived at his flat.

On his way, he remembered sending Morgana a text saying he was going home. After that, it was all a blur, really. When he came to his senses, he found himself staring at the celling of his room and lying on his bed, still wearing his outfit for work.

He was exhausted. He had never felt more tired in his life. Yet, he also felt so tense, like a taut rope ready to break.

He stared at his injured hand, surprised to find it bandaged properly. When had he done that? He started wiggling his fingers and stopped when the throbbing worsened.

Before he knew it, he had fished his cellphone from his pocket. The screen of it was the only light in the whole flat, Arthur realized. Then, it was like he lost control of his own body. His hand had a mind of its own as it pressed the call button.

" _Hullo?"_

The unfamiliar baritone voice on his cellphone (and it was on speaker) snapped him out of his trance. He frowned, staring at his phone in confusion. Who had he called?

" _Arthur, I know that's you. I got a caller ID, you know."_  There was lilt of a smile on the voice.  _"Why did you suddenly decide to call, prat?"_

Realization dawned on Arthur. There was only one person who would call him that to his face. As he stared at the number displayed, his suspicions were confirmed.

Out of all people, he had called Merlin. Of course, Arthur should have known his phone would pick Merlin's number out of his many contacts. That thing about soul mates and fate was really starting to spook him.

" _Um, hullo? Are you pranking me, Arthur?"_  And that voice was Merlin's. The sound was oddly soothing and certainly the best thing he had heard all day.  _"'Cause if you are, you don't know how to do it. The victim isn't supposed to know who the caller is."_

"Hey, Merlin." He finally decided to answer as he laid the phone beside his head. "No, I'm not pranking you. I just . . ." he trailed off.

Why had he called Merlin? For the two months they were texting, this was the first time they heard each other's voice. Arthur was contented in just texting Merlin, not wanting to break the friendly routine they had. But here he was, breaking it and wondering why he hadn't done it sooner.

" _What's wrong?"_  Merlin's tone was full of concern. Arthur couldn't believe why he would care so much for someone he just met on the phone.

"Hey, what's your father like?" Arthur blurted, the question a surprise even for himself.

" _My dad?"_

It then dawned to Arthur that the topic might be a bit sensitive, for both him and Merlin. He didn't know what he was thinking. But before the blonde could take back his words, Merlin beat him to it.

" _I-I can't really talk about him."_  Of course. Arthur can understand that but then, Merlin continued,  _"I didn't know him that well. You see, there was this sappy story about how my parents met . . ."_

And Merlin proceeded to tell him his parents' love story, which unexpectedly involved a lot of sweet poetry, disagreeable parents, and lack of knowledge in modern technology. The story  _was_  a bit silly—like it was taken out of a fairy tale book. Arthur was tempted to mention as much to Merlin but he didn't want to interrupt the other man's story.

Merlin's voice rose and fell on every suspenseful moment. His words flowed smoothly and eloquently as if he had told the story a million times. He probably had, given that he sounded really proud of his parents. Arthur closed his eyes, feeling oddly relaxed.

Suddenly, Merlin's voice dropped to a whisper that Arthur had to strain to hear him.  _"I was with him for only a couple of weeks but . . . he was a great man. I imagined he could have been a great father had fate given him a chance."_

With all unexpectedness, Arthur felt his eyes burned like hot coals and a lump hindered his throat. It was so like Merlin to voice out the thoughts he hadn't even known he was thinking. Warm tears flowed down his temples and, to his horror, a sob was trying to tear its way out of his throat.

" _Arthur?"_

Arthur furiously wiped away the unbidden tears and chocked down his sob. It was unbecoming of a man like himself to be crying over . . . over something like this.

However, try as he might, the sorrow he was feeling in his heart made the tears and sobs unstoppable. By the gods, there was only so much he could take.

"I-I think," Arthur croaked, feeling that it would be better if just said it. "M-My father is the same. His health—He isn't good. Though he—he wa- _is_  never the ideal f-father, maybe if- _when_  he gets through this, maybe I'll be able t-to appreciate his efforts of trying to be one."

He didn't make sense. Arthur knew he didn't make sense, seeing as he never even told Merlin about his father's condition or anything about his father. But he needed to let it out. Tears gathered at corners of his eyes and threatening to spill again. He kept swallowing every sound that escapes his throat that he was having a hard time breathing.

" _Arthur, Arthur, listen to me. Calm down. Deep breaths._ " Merlin said, voice comforting but firm.

Arthur complied, whole body trembling at the force of emotions he was having. A pitiful sounding wail escaped his throat and he hurriedly clamped a hand over his mouth.

 _"Arthur, it's alright. Just—don't . . . don't hold back. It's just you and me here, alright?"_  Merlin sounded calm and controlled but a hint of worry dripped in his tone.

Maybe Arthur was going insane because he suddenly had the strange urge to laugh. And laugh he did. "The fact that you're hearing this worries me greatly. Morgana is not to hear a word of this." The blonde mockingly ordered.

 _"And I swear that she shall not hear it from me."_  Merlin promised, tone serious like he was reciting a pledge for a king. It astonished Arthur. Then, tentatively, Merlin asked,  _"Do you want to talk about it?"_

Arthur sobered up almost immediately. He wondered for a moment, wanting to give an honest response.  _No_  should have been automatic but saying "Yes." felt a whole lot better already.

He could almost see Merlin rearranging his limbs for a better position as he heard the shuffles in the background before the man said a simple,

_"I'm listening."_

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	6. Of Hackers and Tumblrs

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" _~~You're the voice, try and understand it. Make a noise and make it clea~r~~"_

The song of John Farnham was what woke Arthur up.

He opened his eyes, grimacing as they stung. His blue orbs felt puffy and unusual. Damn, had he slept with his eyes open  _again_? That was funny the first time it happened but not anymore.

Suddenly, the memories of yesterday's events slammed to him like a gust of cold air, making him reel back. He was surprised, however, that the grief that came along with it receded quite a bit. He flushed as he remembered last night's break down, both embarrassed and astonished with himself.

Gods, he had babbled and bawled to Merlin like a pathetic little kid. And he was older than Merlin by at least three years.

Realizing that his phone was still ringing, he snatched it and answered with "H-Hello? Arthur Pendragon speaking." He hoped that his voice came out as hoarse from sleep, not from crying. Then, he belatedly wondered when he had hang up on Merlin for someone to be able to call him.

" _Arthur,"_  Morgana's voice was the same harsh sound as his and she made no effort to hide it, unlike Arthur.  _"How's the hand?"_

"The wha—" The throbbing of his right hand reminded him of his stupidity. "How do you even know about that?"

" _The blood outside father's room and the dented wall was proof enough."_  Arthur tensed at the mention of their father. Sensing this, Morgana asked, " _How are you?"_

"I'm fine." It wasn't completely true but it was an automatic response. "You?" Arthur asked in return, remembering his sister's out-of-character actions yesterday.

" _I'm alright."_  Morgana hesitantly paused, something uncharacteristically her. " _Just . . . take a day off from work, yeah? Just for today."_

But Arthur needed to keep busy. He needed to numb the pain he was feeling. Maybe he'll secretly sneak into the office and do some work. But, as if Morgana read his mind, she added,

" _Don't you even dare. I told everyone at the office not to let you in no matter what, so don't bother trying."_

Arthur groaned. Damn that control freak of a sister. The office was more scared of Morgana than him so it was no use trying to intimidate them into letting him in. "Morgana . . ."

" _No, Arthur. Go to the pub and get drunk. Go out and bully little kids. Call up your mates and watch porn together or whatever you boys do."_

Arthur rolled his eyes at the suggestions. He seldom drinks because doing so wouldn't really solve the problem and the hangover that resulted from it was troublesome. He doesn't bully kids. He had outgrown watching porn and he had no mates. Except for Gwaine. But if he calls him up, suggestion # 1 would happen so just  _no_.

" _Or . . ."_  He heard Morgana smirk.  _"you could flirt all day with that wizard of yours."_

Arthur's face tried hard to imitate a tomato. "I do not flirt with him. I never had and will never flirt with Merlin. Where did you even get that idea?"

" _I have a copy of your every text and I say, I never knew you were this bold, Arty."_

"You  _what_? Where did you even get a bloody copy?" Arthur demanded, a snarl in his tone.

Morgana clicked her tongue.  _"Little brother, it's like you haven't known me your whole life."_

Arthur wished he hadn't. Some of the things he knew about Morgana were so scary it's not even funny.

" _Just talk to him again like last night, alright? He's good for you."_  Morgana said, a hint of softness in her voice that Arthur rarely heard, especially when it's directed to him.

As much as he wanted to deny the last statement, Arthur knew it was true. Arthur sighed in resignation. The concept of talking to Merlin was becoming a better idea by the minute. It would certainly be better than working at the office and unnecessarily snapping at his employees. Especially now that Arthur now had the privilege of calling him and hearing his voice.

And then, something occurred to him.

"Wait, talk to him  _again_?" Merlin had promised he would speak of it to no one. And Arthur trusted him. "How the hell did you know about that?"

Morgana's answer was a witch's cackle and a beep as the line went dead. Arthur immediately dialed Merlin's number.

After a few rings, a wide-awake  _"Arthur?"_ greeted him.

"Did you tell Morgana about last night?" Arthur blurted straightforwardly.

" _No!"_  Merlin almost shouted, sounding slightly offended that Arthur might even think that.  _"I promised that I wouldn't tell her."_

"Did you forwarded all our texts to her?"

" _Um . . . I may have accidentally pressed the wrong button?"_ Merlin sighed.  _"Sorry. She was very persistent until I gave it to her. And threatened to—well, you do not want to hear about that part."_

The blonde rolled his eyes. That was so like Morgana. Arthur unconsciously ran a hand through his hair. "Well, that solves that mystery. But that doesn't explain how she knew we talked to each other last night." Then, a thought occurred to him. "Oh gods, my sister  _is_  a grey-hat hacker."

Merlin released a small laugh. Arthur's heart forgot that it had a job to beat as he heard it.

" _Don't be ridiculous, Arthur. Seeing as Morgana probably has thousands of minions under her command, it is only reasonable to assume that one of them was the hacker and she made him do all the work."_

"That's right!" Arthur mock exclaimed. "Then, she cast a spell on our phones so that she can monitor everything we do. She's probably listening to us right now."

" _Oh, hi, Morgana! I just want you to know that you really scare me and I'm really glad you're on my side now. I'll be working hard on those Matt Smith-signed posters."_

There was silence.

Until both of them burst out laughing, the sound boisterous and carefree.

"I think we're going bonkers." Arthur managed in between laughs.

" _You were already mad. Now, you're just influencing me."_  Was Merlin's reply.

Arthur smirked. "So does that mean  _I_  make you go crazy?" he said with a hint of something even he couldn't identify.

" _And you are putting words in my mouth, prat."_  There was a pause.  _"But I guess you do make me act a bit silly."_

Arthur was utterly surprised at the admission. "Do you say that to all the blokes you've randomly texted?"

Merlin chuckled.  _"Only to prats who get under my skin."_

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Before long, Arthur was back at work, snapping at his employees  _only_  when necessary. He wasn't over that fact that his father might die any moment but hope was still brewing in his heart. Talking to Merlin truly did wonders.

Midafternoon, in an uncharacteristic urge to take a break from work, Arthur was randomly surfing the net. Merlin told him it would help relax his mind. Arthur, meanwhile, was finding no delight reading blogs that criticized his father's company.

When he said as much to Merlin, he replied with, " _You dollophead. Of course you won't relax when you read those blogs._ " There was pause. " _Wait, I'll text you a site that has great blogs. Create an account there, alright?_ "

"www . _tumblr . com"_  came on his phone not a moment later.

Shrugging and deciding it couldn't hurt, he typed the website and press enter.

Approximately ten minutes later, he realized that trying could  _hurt_  and that he shouldn't have trusted Merlin.

"I hate you." Arthur seethed as soon as Merlin picked up.

The bastard was laughing. Here he was, scarred for life and Merlin was laughing his ass off. Then, abruptly, the laughter stopped like a candle snuffed out by the wind. There was some kind of a faint sound of  _thump thump thump_  then, complete silence. It was ominous.

Worried, Arthur called out, "Merlin?" Nothing. "Merlin, stop messing around." Arthur said, ignoring the way his stomach was dropping with dread. Oh gods, what if Merlin suddenly hit his head and was knocked unconscious? And then, he was slowly bleeding to death . . .

Then, " _I'm—_ " Merlin cleared his throat and promptly coughed, the noise sounding painful. " _I'm fine. Just choked on my own saliva._ "

Arthur stifled his sigh of relief. "You truly are an idiot."

" _Coming from the man who I managed to trick into going to tumblr."_  Merlin snickered.

"I cannot believe you gave me that address. You are paying for my therapy sessions."

" _Come off it. It's not that bad."_  Merlin reasoned.

"Not that bad? Have you even visited it? They casually talk about things that—that should never even left the confines of their own mind. They're broadcasting things that . . . that should never been broadcast." Arthur said in a slightly embarrassed tone.

" _How articulate, Arthur._ " He replied dryly.

"Shut up,  _Mer_ lin."

He could practically see Merlin rolling his eyes as he sighed. " _Fine, there's that. But once you get over that part, you'll see that people there have some really great ideas and discussions. They're even as witty and clever as me._ "

"That doesn't really say anything. Everyone is wittier and cleverer that you."

" _And seeing as I'm much more intelligent than you, you're at the bottom of the food chain._ "

Arthur frowned. "That doesn't even make sense."

" _Yes, it does and you just have to deal with it. Anyway, back to topic, give it another try._ "

"My mind is not going to survive 'another try'." Arthur drawled out.

" _You are such a big baby. Just scroll down and skip the parts you find disturbing."_

"I find all of them disturbing." Arthur retorted.

" _And yet you stayed on the site for ten minutes."_

"I did not!" he denied.

" _So it took you ten minutes to dial my number? Oh no! Arthur, should I call the doctor? There's obviously something wrong with your nervous system."_  The mock worry in the tone was evident.

Arthur scowled. " _Fine_. I admit that some of the things they pointed are fairly interesting. But it's not worth the trauma I suffered."

" _You—DING DONG_ " the loud noise from the other line interrupted their bickering.  _"Wait just a second."_

"Is that your doorbell? Who's that?" Arthur asked curiously. "Are you expecting someone?"

" _Nope. Probably just salesman or a serial killer randomly choosing his kill."_

"You say such inspiring things." Arthur replied, sarcasm dripping in his tone.

Merlin just gave a soft laugh. He heard the locks clicking as Merlin opened the door.

" _Merlin!"_  a new voice sounded, a mixture of frustration, desperation, confusion and a tint of anger compressed in just that one word.

Merlin never mentioned any friends, be it at work or his neighbors. The man had once narrated the story of his best friend Will who died several years ago but that was about it. Arthur had assumed he hadn't got any left. Actually, now that he thought about it, Merlin must have been leading a pretty lonely life. The fact that someone was talking to Merlin so familiarly had gotten him intrigued.

" _Lan—"_  Merlin's voice started but was interrupted by an upset,  _"What's this about you backing out of the list! ?"_

" _Calm down."_ Merlin said. Arthur can hear him gritting his teeth and he wondered why Merlin sounded quite upset himself.

" _You can imagine my surprise when I heard from the h— **BEEP BEEP BEEP** "_

The line went dead. Arthur frowned at his phone as if it had done him some great harm. He quickly redialed Merlin's number, wondering why Merlin hung up without preamble.

" _The number you dialed cannot be reached. Please try again later."_

Arthur tried a few more times and, receiving the same monotonic voice as the reply every time, gave up. He dropped his phone (not) gently down the desk. Trying to be nonchalant, he went back to his computer to give this 'tumblr' blog another chance (but not because Merlin told him so).

He tried to tell his heart that Merlin had a good reason for hanging up. Yeah, maybe that guy was a loan shark and Merlin didn't want Arthur knowing that he was in great debt. Or maybe—

 _He was his boyfriend_.

Arthur promptly froze at the thought. And stayed like that for a good half-hour before reminding himself that it didn't matter if the guy was Merlin's boyfriend. It really didn't.

Arthur didn't know who he was fooling.

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	7. Of Cowards and Schoolgirls

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"Why did you hang up?" Arthur had asked a couple of hours later when Merlin picked up, definitely  _without_  a hint of hurt in in his voice.

" _Sorry."_ Merlin replied sincerely, though there was a nervous edge on his tone. _"That was - uh . . . my agent, you know, responsible for my acting career and stuff._ " Merlin explained.  _"He . . . sounded like he was going to spout curses and, well, I didn't want to damage your delicate ears."_

So, he wasn't his boyfriend. Huh. The relief he felt in his chest  _definitely_  didn't have anything to with that information.

Then, Arthur frowned. "Why was  _he_  mad? He mentioned you backing out of a list? List of what?"

" _You know—er, auditioning stuff."_  Merlin said.  _"He wanted me to try out for a role but I didn't want to. So, I backed out of the list of . . . auditionees? auditioners?"_

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Auditionees." He corrected. "And really, Merlin, are you in any position to refuse such a chance? I thought you wanted to be famous."

The sound of a quick consecutive  _KLACK KLACK KLACK_  sounded in the other line.  _"Google says auditionees_  is _correct."_  Then, the sound came again. Arthur assumed it was the sound of the keys tapping.  _"Aha! Auditioners is also right. Both can be used. You're wrong, prat."_  Merlin sounded awfully smug about that.

" _Mer_ lin!" Arthur said with exasperation and maybe a bit of fondness. It was so like the idiot to pay attention to the most trivial part of the discussion. "We're discussing something that could potentially destroy your career and dreams!"

" _Are you actually worried about me?"_  Arthur didn't know how but he could hear Merlin's smile through that statement.

"No." he denied quite convincingly (not).

Merlin laughed and Arthur forced himself not to smile at the sound. Then, he realized no one that matters would see and so, he indulged himself.

But alas, he was mistaken. "By that dumb smile on your face, I could only guess that you're talking to our Harry Potter." Morgana grinned as she entered his office with unnecessary flourish. And uninvited (again).

"Oh shit." Arthur whispered to the phone. "The witch is coming. I'll talk to you later. And I'm giving you advice on how not to destroy your career."

" _Oh, don't worry about me,_ Mother _. With my good looks and charming personality, I'm sure I would get by."_  Merlin snickered like a kid.  _"And say hello to Morgana for me."_

"What are you talking about? Morgana's probably recording this conversation. And she'll hear this and I won't have to do anything."

" _Oh right."_  Was the reply in a whisper.  _"Be careful, Arthur. Don't fall into her spells."_

"Don't worry." And before he could prevent, the words came tumbling from his lips. "I'm only allowed to fall for  _your_  spells."

He froze, mind whirling. Why the hell did he just say that? Sure, they flirted once in a while (read: most of the time) but he had crossed the line. And what's more, that statement was extremely sappy and cliché. What was he  _thinking_? Merlin was awfully silent.

Opting for a tactical retreat, he said, "Well, uh, goodbye." And promptly hang up.

Arthur stared at his phone, horrified. He hoped he hadn't ruined the one thing that highlights his days.

Morgana's laugh slapped him back to reality. "My god, 'I'm only allowed to fall for your spells'" she repeated, adopting a tone that she thought was similar to his. Then, she laughed some more. "Oh, Arthur, you could write a book with that!"

Arthur's cheeks burned with embarrassment. He glared hard at his sister. "What do you want, Morgana?"

She composed herself and stared at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Isn't it about time you two meet?" Morgana said, a sly smile on her face.

Arthur's jaw dropped. The idea was ludicrous, impossible and completely  _genius_ —not that Arthur's going to say the last one to Morgana. "Are you crazy? Weren't you the one who told me he could be a stalker or a psycho?"

"I don't think he's that bad. He had me charmed with his texts alone and you know that I'm not easily swayed. Meet in a public place if you're that worried." She suggested, raising a brow.

"I'm not even considering it, Morgs. We've only been texting for two months.  _Two months._ " He said in reply, pretending to be concentrating in a document in his hands. But he wasn't working then and he didn't think he would be working now.

"The fact that you haven't even attempt to change the subject means that you are. I know you too well, brother." Morgana sounded smug as she added, "And two months is a long time. Most of your relationships doesn't even last a month."

"That's not true." Except, it was. Damn, he had been reading the same paragraph for ten times. He dropped the papers and turned to his evil sister. "Besides, Merlin and I don't have any kind of relationship other than being friends."

The thought of setting up a meet hadn't even occurred to Arthur. But now that the idea was planted in his mind, it was all he could think about. Where would they meet? What would he wear? Will Merlin be the guy Arthur expected him to be?

Shaking his head out of his thoughts, Arthur sniped, "And what makes you think Merlin would want to meet up with me? He must be thinking  _I_  was the psycho or something." Saying it like that, Arthur realized that it might be true.

Morgana laughed—no, actually, she  _cackled_. "Arthur, Merlin already knows you're a mad man that escaped from the mental hospital. And I think he's willing to take the risk because he's so besotted with you."

Arthur glowered and sarcastically said, "Wow, you're trust in my mental health is astounding, Morgs." Then, the second statement caught up to him. "Wait, besotted?  _Merlin_? W-With me?" A strange kind of warmth blossomed in his chest.

Morgana gave her trademark I-know-something-you-would-kill-for-to-know smirk. "He cares for you and I think he wants to meet you. But since, he was the one who texted you first, he's afraid you might think this was some sort of scam. Ergo, you should be the one to take the initiative."

Well, that actually made sense. "Did he tell you that? Because it would be suspicious if he did."

"No." His sister looked at him as if he was hopelessly stupid. "But I've read enough romance novels to know that kind of thing."

Arthur scrunched his nose. "Romance novels? Really? You're going to use that as your reference?"

"I don't see why not."

"Yeah, good for you. But that doesn't mean I should. This could be a terrible idea."

"Coward."

The blonde scowled. "I am not going to be manipulated like that. I am not a kid anymore."

"Coward."

"And here I thought you were the mature one."

"Co~ward." She singsonged

"Nope. I'm going to ignore you now."

"Arthur Pendragon is a co~ward~, like a timid little school~boy~, afraid to ask his crush out~" Morgana sang with an annoyingly high-pitched voice that can shatter glass. Actually, Arthur might have seen the coffee mug on his table shake.

An angry vein made itself known on Arthur's temples. "Fine, you nasty witch. I'll ask him to meet up. And if he doesn't agree, that's out of my hands, alright?"

"You're doing this sometime today, right?" Morgana asked, giving him no means of escape.

"Yes, fine, today. Now, go irritate someone else for a change."

Morgana chuckled, her stiletto heels clicking as she walked towards the door.

Then, just before she exited, she looked over her shoulder and said, "Good luck on your date~"

"It's not—!" The door was closed before Arthur could even finish his statement.

Arthur glared at the door, hoping at the back of his mind that Morgana suddenly combusted and burn to ashes. Oh, he could just picture it. But nooo~, she was probably cackling like the witch she was. Then, the conversation they had finally caught up to him.

He had just agreed to meet Merlin.

He had just agreed to MEET Merlin! By the gods, what was he thinking? He couldn't meet Merlin. It was too soon. It was . . . he just can't.

" _Co~ward."_ His mind echoed.

"Shut up, Morgana." He said through gritted teeth. "I'm not a coward."

He gingerly fished out his phone from his pocket.

Glancing at the cellphone in his hand, Arthur sighed. He was going to have to do this. A real Pendragon was always true to his word (Arthur clamped down the memory of his father lest he'll breakdown again). Before he could lose his nerve, he scrolled down to Merlin's number and pressed the call button.

A familiar  _"Hullo"_  spoke from the other line.

"Merlin, it's, ah, um, Arthur." Well, that was smooth. He could only hope that he doesn't sound as hysterical as he felt.

" _Oh, prat."_  Merlin greeted.  _"Got that advice for me?"_ And thank the gods, Merlin decided not to mention his parting statement earlier.

"Well," Arthur started, tone as serious as he can make it. "There's only one advice I can give actors; don't develop a split-personality disorder."

Arthur heard muffled laugh.  _"That's—"_  More snickers escaped Merlin.  _"That's a pretty good advice. You can obviously make a career out of this."_

"I'm good at everything." Arthur said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

" _Yes. But be sure to put on weights so that you won't float like a hot air balloon with that inflated ego of yours. We wouldn't want you to disappear into space, now, would we?"_

Arthur couldn't help but smile at that. Merlin always does that to him. Then, he remembered what he had to do. Straightening his shoulders like he was going to battle, Arthur exhaled.

"Listen, Merlin. I—" He cleared his throat. "I was—um—wondering if we could—ah, that is—you know—"  _Stop speaking like a bumbling fool_ , Arthur told himself. He decided to just blurt it all out. "Can we meet up?"

Silence followed his question. Arthur bit his lip, a habit he thought he'd broken long ago. Merlin just brings out the worse in him and do make him feel like an adolescent girl asking her crush out. And that was just  _wrong_. He hoped Morgana doesn't find out about this.

The pause was excruciatingly long. Just when Arthur was about to call it off as a joke and the result of too much stress, Merlin stammered out.

" _Er—um, I would love to. If-If you're sure . . .?"_  Relief caught Arthur's chest, pure and refreshing like a breath of fresh air, and he couldn't stop the grin that made its way to his face.  _"Um, wh-where and when?"_

Arthur knew just the place. Though his heart was still working overtime and his brain muddled in the fog of warm happiness, his mouth seemed to know what to do.

"Do you know Albion's Diner?" It was public enough in case this all goes horribly wrong but still quiet when the patrons wanted to talk. Plus, it was the only middle-class diner Arthur actually liked.

" _Yeah. It's a twenty-minute ride from my flat."_

"How about we meet there by, say," Arthur went through his schedule for the week. "Saturday? Twelve in the afternoon?"

" _Yeah."_  Merlin breathed out.  _"Yeah, okay."_

"So . . . see you there?"

" _I g-guess."_  Merlin was practically hyperventilating on the other line. It was good to know he wasn't the only one nervous. " _You're really asking me—I mean—Bye."_

Arthur stared in shock at his phone. Then, a great feeling of excitement overwhelmed him. He punched the air with both fists.

"Yes!" Yup, definitely  _not_  a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush.

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	8. Of Changes and Gwaine

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"I feel like this is the calm before the storm." Owen muttered, wide brown eyes following the figure walking across the hall.

Arthur Pendragon, also known as The Oncoming Storm of Camelot (and no, they invented this even before Doctor Who got it), was striding throughout the whole floor, an expensive espresso from Starbucks in one hand.

It would have been a normal sight had he not been smiling ear to ear and threatening to break his face in half. He was so perky that the black suit and trousers, plus the dark blue buttoned up shirt under he was wearing seemed to take very bright color. And he was  _humming_  a merry tune under his breath. It was a very traumatic sight for some.

"It's the apocalypse in the making." Valiant replied, boredom and indifference oozing out of his tone. He opened his cabinet and started flipping out the documents inside.

Owen continued, either not detecting the sarcasm or ignoring it. "I mean, first comes a bright sunny day, then BAM, next thing you know, your house is being swept away by a hurricane."

"That's a very great analogy." Valiant replied flippantly.

Owen rolled his eyes. "Don't be an ass."

Val turned to him with a raised brow and Owen finally remembered that this was the man's normal attitude.

Writing some important footnotes on the papers, Valiant thought that was the end to their rather boring conversation. But, of course, things just have to get more complicated.

"You think he got laid?" Owen tilted his head curiously at the blonde man opening his office door.

Valiant clamped down the growl that threatened to emit from his mouth. He would have been less irritated had he not had a mountain of paperwork to do. Owen was obviously procrastinating but Valiant had no such plan. "I don't know." He couldn't completely remove the venom from his voice and he didn't try to. "How would that even work?"  _Seeing as the other partner is also a man_ , went unsaid.

Owen stared at him and  _actually_  contemplated the idea. "It's not like it's impossible. Maybe one man—"

"That was rhetorical." Valiant quickly cut off, fighting off the horror at what he had nearly heard.

The other man shrugged and Valiant sighed in relief.

"I really want to meet this Merlin bloke." Owen absent-mindedly remarked.

Valiant paused in his writing. He glanced at his co-worker before turning his gaze to the office of their boss. Arthur Pendragon was still beaming brightly, one hand setting down his cup of coffee while the other was tapping on his phone. He was so unlike the short-tempered, arrogant, and condescending man they had been working for a few months ago.

Silently, the indifferent man that was Valiant agreed with Owen. He really wanted to know more about the catalyst of all this.

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It was Friday afternoon.

So far, Arthur and Merlin had managed to avoid talking about their upcoming meet-up. Arthur couldn't decide whether this was a good or bad thing. They continued on talking and bantering (and flirting) through their phones and Merlin was being an idiot as usual. Everything seemed to go back to normal, as if there wasn't a monumentally and possibly life-changing event happening soon.

And there wasn't, Arthur told himself. He was just a normal CEO of a large company planning to meet a normal man for the first time. He was just meeting a text mate who made his heart soar quite alarmingly; who had a voice he wished he could hear beyond the static of a phone; who made him smile through his witty yet sometimes foolish comebacks; who made him laugh over a stupid corny joke; who guided and listened to him through his ordeal; who talked enthusiastically about experiences he wanted to show Arthur; who—

_Shit. Bugger. Fuck._

And just like that, the blonde's nerves exploded and scattered all over the place. His mind went over the things that could and  _would_ go wrong on the fated day. Arthur didn't know what to do, suddenly, and was left to sit there and stare blankly into the air.

"Finally snapped?"

Arthur didn't know how he didn't hear those killer heels tapping the ground. Morgana's smug face came to view, a low cut blouse showing off her cleavage and had Arthur wishing he was blind. Something was thrust to his face that had him blinking rapidly. His sister held out some papers and oh shit, he recalled having tons of work to do. And he needed to do it all tonight or he would need to work tomorrow.

 _Tomorrow_.  _Saturday. Twelve noon._

He swiftly grabbed the documents and started skimming through them. No worries, it wasn't that complicated after all. He could probably finish and polish it up before midnight.

He heard Morgana smirk. "Big day tomorrow."

Arthur looked up and narrowed his eyes at her. "Do I even want to know where you're getting all this information?"

Morgana's emerald eyes rolled at her brother's foolishness. "Sometimes, I wonder if you're being thick on purpose so that you can irritate me. You do know I have Merlin's number, don't you?"

"Oh." Arthur frowned at the thought. He had totally forgotten about that. Then, a realization struck him like a ton of bricks. "Have you _met_  him?"

Morgana, who was studying those long red-painted nails that can probably claw anyone's eyes out, looked up at the inquiry. She raised a condescending brow.

"Aren't you the one who's marrying him? I would think he should meet you first before introducing him to family."

Arthur scowled. His sister would never let up on that topic no matter how long it had been. She was convinced that Merlin and Arthur were 'destined to be' and kept saying she could see a wedding in the near future. Arthur would roll his eyes on the outside but a miniscule part of him hoped his sister developed some prophetic powers (and he fought down this small part of him because it was so  _unreasonable_ ).

"Finish that carefully, though." Morgana interrupted his thoughts. She pointed a slender finger at the papers on his desk. "If you make a mistake and the business goes bankrupt, you wouldn't be able to provide for my future nieces and nephews."

Arthur's just raised a brow, saying 'have I ever made a mistake with these before' with his look. But then again, he hadn't got the thought of Merlin clouding his head before either. Arthur mentally shook his head. Darn it, concentrate on work.

His sister, a person who had known him all his life, perhaps saw his confliction as she gave a small chuckle of amusement. With a self-satisfied expression, Morgana turned on her heels and left the office.

Arthur clamped down the urge to get a (blank) sheet of paper, crumple it, and aim it at the back of her head. Because that was just childish. Sighing, he got a fountain pen and started his work.

" _~~You're the voice, try and understand it. Make a noise and make it clea~r~~"_

That was the plan until his BlackBerry rang. He glanced at the ID caller and  _speak of the devil_. Putting down his pen almost immediately, he answered.

" _Holy shit, guess who I just met."_ Merlin said without preamble, panting and sounding giddy.

Arthur blinked. Judging by the sound of his voice, Merlin probably met someone famous or at least someone who appeared on the telly once. The thing was, Arthur rarely watched the television if it's not the news so he had a slim chance of guessing whoever it was that had Merlin beaming like the sun. A part of Arthur wondered if Merlin would have a similar reaction after meeting the blonde.  _Oh gods_ , where the hell was his mind going?

" _Arthur?"_

"Hmm." Arthur tried to recall any of the names Merlin had texted him. "Dave Tent?"

Merlin clicked his tongue disapprovingly.  _"First of all, it's David Tennant. Da-vid. Ten-nant."_  He said slowly as if talking to a child and Arthur rolled his eyes.  _"Second, I've already met him because we once filmed together. And third, it's Benedict Cumberbatch!"_  Merlin's voice rose with excitement.

The name actually sounds familiar. He frowned in concentration. He knew that name. Where . . . His eyes widened in realization. "Sherlock?" He had gifted a DVD set of it to a geeky son of his friend named Mordred. It had been Morgana's suggestion and he was glad that he had done it. The grinning face of the normally quiet boy was thanks enough.

" _Yes!"_  Merlin exclaimed.  _"I got his autograph! You should have seen him. He had this some sort of strong presence that truly demands respect."_

Arthur raised a brow, trying to clamp down the irrational jealousy rising in him. "Don't you go all fanboy with me, Merlin. I get enough from Morgana." And he didn't say that just so the other man would stop gushing about someone else (not him). He didn't. Nope.

" _You are a cabbagehead that does not appreciate the greatness that are British actors."_  Merlin sniffed.

" _Mer_ lin," Arthur started with a mock chastising tone. "What did we talk about you blowing your own trumpet?"

" _I was not talking about myself, prat."_  Merlin huffed out.

There was a pause that stretched too long that it became awkward. Arthur was waiting for Merlin to say something for he could hear the other man fidgeting indecisively in the background.

" _A-Are we still up for t-tomorrow?"_  Merlin asked meekly.

_Tomorrow. Saturday. Twelve noon. Shit._

Just as he was starting to gather his nerves again, Merlin had to go and remind him. He cleared his throat.

"Y-Yeah, we are." Damn that stutter. "Unless something came up . . .?"

" _Oh, nothing's come up. I just wanted to confirm."_  Merlin gave a nervous laugh.

It was hilarious that both of them were trying so hard hide their obvious nervousness. What's even funnier was that they were acting like two teenagers going out on their first date. Arthur would laugh if he was sure it wouldn't come out as hysterical.

Arthur heard the other man taking a deep breath.  _"Look, no matter what happens tomorrow, I hope you don't look at me differently."_

"Oh my god, I knew it. You're a psycho fighting the urge to kill or something." Was the first thought that crossed Arthur's mind. It seems his brain-to-mouth filter had decided to hide itself.

Apologies were on the tip of Arthur's tongue when Merlin laughed. All the awkwardness disappeared. _"Well, if I was fighting off the urge to kill, I wouldn't test myself with you. Even a potential saint would find it hard not to wring your neck."_

"Now, that's insulting." Arthur replied, putting as much mock hurt in it as possible. "I'm very likeable."

" _I don't know who told you that but they obviously didn't want to hurt your feelings. Or is under extreme duress."_

They talked for another half-an-hour before Arthur was forced to say goodbye lest he left his work unfinished. Merlin understood and cheerily wished him good luck.

After that talk, Arthur's chest rumbled with something akin to happiness as he worked.

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_The next day . . ._

Arthur Pendragon stood in the middle of his bedroom, hair wet and with only a towel around his waist. He grimaced at the clothes strewn about his room, every space draped with clothing. It looked like a hundred hurricanes and a few twisters passed through his house. This was not good.

Arthur risked a glance at the time.

11:05 AM, the clock warned. The blonde glared at it, blaming it for not slowing down time. Then, he realized he was being ridiculous and promptly face-palmed.

It had been so long since he was out on a date—not that he was saying this thing with Merlin was a date. But, as he was a Pendragon, he must a leave a good impression on everyone he meets. As mentioned earlier, Merlin was one who was not easily impressed, especially when it comes to Arthur.

Whatever the reason was, he needed the perfect combination of clothes (just because! Stop pestering him, Morgana's-voice-in-his-head). Where the hell did his fashion sense go? Actually, where did all his  _senses_  go? He must have lost all of them the moment he started texting Merlin.

He needed help. And there's only one person suited for the job.

His eyes wandered, searching for his phone. He frowned when he realized that it was not within his view. He bent down and threw highly expensive clothing in other directions, hoping to find it.

"C'mon, where . . ." His hand grasped the cold metal that was his phone.

He gave a cry of triumph. He hurriedly pushed the right buttons so that he won't have time for second thoughts. With  _him_ , you would surely have several.

" _Gwaine the Babymaker speaking. How may I be of assistance, my lady?"_

"That is the most disgusting and oldest line in the book. Please look at your caller ID before opening your mouth, you bloody pervert, or I may be traumatized next time I am crazy enough to call you." Arthur dryly retorted.

" _Oh, Princess! That you, mate?"_  Gwaine's voice was energetic and happy. He always was the cheerful—albeit skirt-chaser—type.  _"Man, I haven't heard from you in weeks."_

"Stop calling me that blasted nickname, Gwaine." Arthur replied even though he knew it was useless. The man had been calling him that the moment they met.

" _Wanna go out for a drink? It's your treat, of course."_

"No, I need to ask you something." Oh gosh, is he really going to ask Gwaine for fashion advice? Gritting his teeth, Arthur prepared himself for the humiliation he was sure to receive. "Say I— _you_  would be meeting up with someone, not for work, but for other reasons. Even though it is unrelated to work,  _you_  still want—I mean— _need_  to amaze them. You know, leave a good impression. What do you suggest I— _you_  should wear on that occasion?"

There was pregnant pause. Arthur tapped his foot impatiently.

" _Are you asking me what you should wear on a date?"_  Gwaine finally replied. His voice was on the verge of laughing.  _"Oh gods, this is priceless. The great Arthur Pendragon asking my advice about fashion!"_

"It's not a date." He denied vehemently. "It's a . . . an extremely professional meet-up."

Gwaine laughter grew louder.

Arthur scowled. He knew this wasn't a good idea. Yet, because he had lost even his common sense, he had still called Gwaine who has got to be the worst best friend on Earth. "Bye, Gwaine. I'm hanging up." With that, he started to press the end-call button.

" _Wait, wait, Princess!"_  was the other man's cry.

Arthur decided to give him a second chance and put the phone back on his ear. The blonde heard more snickering and chuckling. He frowned as the laughter continued for over a minute. The blonde rolled his eyes, silently wishing that Gwaine would choke on his own saliva or something.

Some god answered his silent wish. Arthur caught a gagging sound on the other line that lifted his spirits and made him smile.

Seemingly done composing himself, Gwaine said,  _"*cough* Fine, this gracious Gwaine will help you in your troublesome dilemma."_

"Yes, yes, thank you, Gracious Gwaine." Arthur said with as much sarcasm as possible. "I would appreciate it if we speed things a bit. I'm in a bit of a hurry."

" _These things take time, Princess."_  Gwaine replied. " _But we'll see what we can do. So, describe her to me, the girl."_

Arthur was a bit taken aback by the 'girl' part before remembering that,  _yes_ , it was the natural conclusion when your  _male_  best mate said he was going on a date (not that he was, mind). "Um, h-she's an idiot, excruciatingly cheeky, a tad bit annoying, impossibly incompetent, and thinks doctors are cool."

" _Your absolutely dream girl then."_  Arthur rolled his eyes at Gwaine's chirpy tone. _"Doctors? She admires doctors?"_

"Yeah, h-she mentioned something about unnamed doctors having screwdrivers and blue boxes? I didn't really follow." Arthur said, looking back on the series of texts he failed to understand. Really, he said as much to Merlin but the man kept on bringing it up.

Gwaine laughed again.  _"Oh man, you need to watch the telly more often."_

Arthur frowned. "These guys are famous enough to be on the telly?"

" _You can say that. Where are you meeting?"_

"You know that diner you introduced me to?" Arthur answered, slumping heavily down the edge of the fabric-covered bed. The towel around his waist shifted and turned loose at the motion and he absent-midedly arranged it.

" _Albion's Diner?"_  Gwaine gave a low whistle.  _"Not bad."_

"I'm glad you approve." Arthur replied dryly.

" _So that means this girl isn't one of those high-class ladies, eh?"_

"No." Arthur couldn't quite help the smile that plastered itself to his face. "He—She's . . . This one's different."

" _Sounds like it_." Arthur could be mistaken but was that  _sincerity_  he's sensing in Gwaine's tone, the man who couldn't be serious even if it would save his life?  _"What time are you meeting?"_

"At noon." Arthur rubbed his face in frustration.

" _Cutting it close, mate."_  Gwaine said with a wince. A pause. " _Alright, remember that shirt Morgana gave you?"_

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He arrived at Albion's Diner just a shy of twelve o'clock.

Stepping out of his car, he dusted of the nonexistent dust on his black dress shirt. He arranged the collar and removed the creases of the sleeves that reached his elbows. Gwaine said to leave the two top buttons undone but Arthur wasn't so sure. He examined his light blue trousers, looking for any dirt or stain that might have appeared since his last inspection five minutes ago. No dirt nor stain so far. Good.

He walked towards the door of the diner, shaping down his hair then messing it up again and then arranging it. Gwaine told him to keep it disheveled but not too disheveled. How the fuck was Arthur going to know how 'not too disheveled' mean?

The bell rung quite shrilly above the door as he opened it and he flinched at the sound. Giving up on his hair, he sighed and gave the surroundings a once-over.

Albion's Diner was like any other diner. A counter with the usual paraphernalia of menus, brochure, sugar, salt, ketchup and whatnot, was making up a fourth of the place. Red-cushioned booths were attached to the corners and sides of the rooms. Circular tables and metal chairs were strategically placed around the middle of the room. The afternoon sunlight poured in shafts as they escaped the blinds covering the windows.

It had a homey and gentle atmosphere about it. Arthur loved it.

It was lunchtime so more than handful of people were eating. A quiet murmur buzzed throughout the room, the sound vibrating throughout Arthur's restless being. He glanced at the people around, looking for a certain dark-haired man. He can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, hoping and anxious at the same time.

No Merlin in sight. He breathed out a sigh, of relief or disappointment, he didn't know. No matter what, he was kind of glad that he was given extra time to compose himself. The blonde chose a spot where there is only enough amount of sunlight and sat down.

A bubbly waitress approached his table and he politely told her that he was waiting for someone. She gave him a knowing smile and went to attend to other customers. He wondered if his nervousness was  _that_ evident.

A million and one questions were running rampant in his mind, chasing one another in circles. What will Merlin look like outside his mobile's screen? What about his voice? Will they immediately click like they had on phone? Gods, what if they become awkward? Arthur will probably lose any contact he had with Merlin after this not-date.

A few minutes later, Arthur's nerves were frayed and he felt so tired of worrying. He had grabbed a napkin and was currently tearing it into tiny square pieces. Darn it, he was supposed to be composing himself.

Suddenly, a figure slid on the seat opposite him. His heart climbed to his throat and he froze. He heard the sound of his mind dropping the gears of his thoughts. When he finally found a bit of his senses, he raised his head and stared in horror.

"Gwaine! ?" the blonde shouted, attracting the attention of the other customers and waitresses.

The ruggedly handsome man smirked, removing his sunglasses graciously. He flipped his brown locks out of his face like a shampoo model. A tight fitting buttoned-up shirt and jeans wrapped around his figure snugly, leaving nothing to a girl's imagination.

"Princess." The man greeted brightly.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Arthur exclaimed, voice embarrassingly shrill.

The horrifying thought that Merlin and Gwaine were one and the same briefly crossed his mind. However, the notion that Gwaine couldn't be smart enough to pull off something like that comforted him.

Gwaine was not perturbed by the stares they were getting. "Well," he started. "You sounded really despaired over the phone. I was worried. I'm here for moral support." He grinned.

"You mean you wanted to meet the one who makes me trip over myself." Arthur deadpanned.

Fuck, he was going to strangle this guy.

" _Exactly_. I mean, I haven't seen you this besotted since—" he stopped abruptly, a contemplative look on his face. "Ever! Mate, you were always so uptight and proper. But a while ago, you were so frustrated and pleading. You actually asked me for fashion advice. I, for one, want to meet this girl. She must truly be something to have Arthur Pendragon chasing over her." Gwaine waggled his brows suggestively.

Arthur felt the hot rush of his blood across his cheeks. When did Gwaine get so observant that he got all that over a phone call? "I am not chasing over anyone!" He denied vehemently. And he wasn't (not yet).

Gwaine stared. "Oh my god, are you actually  _blushing_? Like a princess?" The man laughed raucously. "Man, now I  _really_  want to meet her."

Then, the real problem dawned to Arthur. "You are not meeting anyone." Arthur believed in the proverb: You wanna know a man? Look at his friends. And Arthur didn't want Merlin getting the wrong impression about him because of Gwaine (who is now promoted to the Worst Best Friend in the Universe).

Huh. You would have thought he should be more ashamed of the fact that he had a crush on a man. Well, he isn't ashamed and that's not surprising, considering he had a fangirl like Morgana as sister.

Gwaine opened his mouth to reply with something witty, no doubt, but Arthur growled, "Bloody hell, Gwaine. I don't go around popping on one of your dates and trying to ruin it."

Gwaine looked taken aback, probably by the anger tinting the blonde's tone. Then, his expression turned contrite and he sighed.

"Yeah, sorry, mate. This was so stupid of me."

Someone cleared their throat nearby. Arthur turned to their direction, expecting a timid and intimidated waitress. An apology for the commotion was at the tip of his tongue when he froze.

Amused periwinkle blue met bewildered ones. Arthur paused, his mouth still half-open and eyes wide. His very first thought was  _those mobile screens didn't capture that shade of blue._  What followed was,  _Oh shit._

Because  _Merlin_  was standing right there. And his BlackBerry certainly did not do his image justice.

Merlin with his messy hair (was that the kind of 'disheveled' Gwaine was saying? Because Merlin certainly pulled it off), ridiculously adorable ears, sharp cheekbones, and red kissable lips. Merlin with his plaid buttoned-up shirt and a worn-out jeans accentuating his sinuous figure. Slender fingers intertwined and fidgeted as a tentative smile lit up his face.

Arthur can only gape.

"Um, I hope I'm not interrupting anything." And no statics in phones could mask that (lovely) baritone voice. Uncertain eyes flickered between Arthur and Gwaine.

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Gwaine Noble knew it was stupid of him to go to Albion's Diner at noon that Saturday. And he fought really hard against the urge to oversee his best friend's supposed not-date. He really did.

But he remembered the way the eloquent man that was Arthur Pendragon stutter and twist his words in nervousness.  _Him_ , the emotionless and no-nonsense son of Uther Pendragon. Who the hell had reduced him to this? Gwaine was not going to miss the opportunity to meet her.

Arriving at the diner just after twelve, he spotted the familiar face of his best friend. And it seemed he did follow his advice. He was tearing a napkin into pieces and looking so anxious that Gwaine snickered.

Seriously, what the hell? How had he missed this? Morgana must have known about this (Arthur can't hide anything from that cunning woman). Darn it, she should have let him join in on the fun. Again, he wondered what kind of girl had Princess restless just for a date.

And apparently, he should have expected this.

Here he was, sitting on a comfortable booth, glancing between the dark-haired newcomer, who was a bit of a looker, and Arthur's expression. Who was this guy? Gwaine was pretty sure he had never met him before. But he does seemed kind of familiar . . . He gave Arthur an inquiring look but the blonde was too busy staring quite dreamily into the air.

Wait a minute. Was his date here already? Gwaine followed the blonde's line of sight. He looked behind the dark-haired bloke, hazel eyes darting around. All the customers seemed to have been going back to their own businesses. The only people standing and milling about were the servers.

And this nice chap who was staring meekly ahead and worrying the hem of his plaid shirt.

His head snapped to stare at the dark-haired man again, eyes widening with realization.

 _Oh my god_. Gwaine's heard turned to Arthur then to the dark-haired man and back again. He rubbed his mouth with his palm.  _I never would have thought . . . But I guess that does explain a few things._

" _This one's different."_  No shit, Princess. Who would have thought Arthur Pendragon, CEO of Camelot Corps and son of the traditional Uther Pendragon, was actually batting for the other side?

"So that's why you were tripping over your pronouns." He blurted out almost absent-mindedly.

Princess snapped out of whatever trance he was in. The dark-haired man blinked in surprise. Two pairs of cerulean eyes settled on Gwaine and he grinned widely. Well, he wasn't one to judge and he had  _no_  right to judge (the sort of troubles he got into speaks for that). And anyway, just as he said, Princess is totally besotted with this one.

"Man, why didn't Morgana tell me about this?" He clicked his tongue in mock disapproval.

He gracefully slid out of the booth and got to his feet. He clapped a hand on the dark-haired man's back, almost making him fall over. Gwaine heard a quiet growl coming in the general direction of the blonde. It made his grin wider and oh, this was so precious.

"I was just leaving. I apologize for disturbing your  _date_." With that, Gwaine made a beeline for the exit. Behind, he heard Arthur spluttering indignantly.

Outside, he finally released the laugh he had been holding back, uncaring of the people giving him strange looks. Gods, the Princess' expression!

He shook his head and silently wished the couple all the luck in the world.

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	9. Of Awkwardness and Server Gossips

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Arthur glared at Gwaine's back as he left the diner. Why was everyone planning against him recently?

"Um . . . "

Arthur's gaze shifted to the (gorgeous) man hesitantly taking the seat Gwaine had previously occupied. His glare disappeared before he was even aware. Good Lord, the other man really does have a face and a figure of an actor, all that dazzle and charm in a package.

Suddenly becoming self-conscious, he tugged at his shirt to remove the nonexistent creases, subtly dusted of his trousers, and quickly combed through his hair with his fingers. He fought down an embarrassed blush as he realized Merlin was curiously watching his every move. Damn, it was one thing to have him on the phone and another to interact with him face-to-face. On the phone, he only has to be conscious of his tone and words. In person, he has to be conscious of  _everything_  just so he could look impressive.

 _What? Why would I need to be impressive? Ah, because that's what teenagers on a first date want to do, you sod._  Fuck, Arthur really needed to get Morgana's voice out of his head.

Merlin then glanced quizzically at the shredded napkins on the table. For one brief moment, Arthur's heart stopped at the sheer embarrassment before his senses kicked in. He swiftly swiped them away in a corner of the table and pretended they never existed.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Merlin." He held out his hand in between them. "Nice to finally meet you in person."

Merlin took it in an almost absent-minded manner, scrutinizing his face. Arthur was starting worry he had eaten something and now had ketchup stains on his mouth (which was ridiculous because he hadn't eaten  _anything_  yet since he was too nervous to even have breakfast).

Then, Merlin blurted out, "I'm so glad you didn't send me a fake picture."

Arthur blinked, bewildered by the unprecedented outburst. Merlin's blue orbs widened and he slapped both hands over his mouth.

"Oh my god, did I just say that out loud? Shit, I did." Arthur was able to decipher the words being muffled by those slender hands. Merlin removed his hands only for one of them to run through his hair, making it stick up in gravity-defying angles.

Now, he looked like he just rolled out of bed. Arthur couldn't suppress an amused chuckle. "I believe you did. Your foot-in-mouth syndrome is acting up again."

Merlin gave him a half-hearted glare that was more on the pouting side than the threatening one. "Well, do forgive me for expecting the worse."

Sensing an opening, Arthur couldn't help but retort, "Am I really too good to be true?"

Instead of rolling his eyes like Arthur expected him to do, Merlin paused, head inclining forwards towards him. "I never knew your face does sort of a suave look whenever you say something arrogant."

Merlin's eyes widened yet again in what seemed like incomparable horror and he covered his face with both of his hands. Arthur gaped for a moment, not knowing how to respond to that. Wow, it seems Merlin was more forward than he thought in person. Arthur watched in rapt amazement as those endearing ears turned a shade darker than pink.

Merlin then put his hands on his lap, revealing a flushed and embarrassed expression. "Okay, can we start over?" he asked in a small almost high-pitched voice.

Although, Arthur knew it was rhetorical, he answered anyway. "I believe we can." He held out his hand again, humoring him. "Arthur Pendragon, apparently someone with an extremely distracting suave look." Arthur can't be believe he managed to sound more confident than he felt and a lot less hysterical than he expected given his earlier internal panic. He guessed Merlin being all his adorable glory took off his edge.

Merlin took a deep breath before shaking his hand again, giving a smile that showed a perfect row of white teeth. "Merlin Emrys, usually not that awkward."

"Oh, I doubt that."

Merlin raised a brow, its height almost rivalling Gaius'. Almost but not quite. Arthur tried to fight down his smile. "I see your prattiness is as evident in person as it is on the phone."

Arthur smirked. "Well, I always aim to impress." Fuck, that was too close to the truth.

Before the conversation could go any further, the bubbly waitress from before approached the table again.

"Well, sirs, ready to order?" She beamed, a pen already poised on her notepad. Two heads turned in her direction.

Then, her hazel eyes dropped down to their hands.

Which were still linked from their earlier handshake.

Both men simultaneously realized this. Their eyes met for a brief momentous second and then they pulled their respective hands back as if they were burned, eyes averted. Arthur can feel quick rushing of blood to his cheeks when he gathered that they'd practically been holding hands.

Arthur cleared his throat and looked up at the waitress. "I'll have your special. The Turkey Stacker and a Four Seasons Shake. Merlin?"

The blonde then noticed that Merlin was a red as a tomato, his head down. "I'll have the same." He mumbled.

The girl was obviously trying to hold down her giggles. "Of course." She jotted it down and started to turn around to leave.

Before completely leaving though, she caught Arthur's eyes and mouthed what suspiciously looked like a 'Good luck' and gave a knowing wink. Gods, was every woman out to intervene with his (love) life?

_But then again, there was Gwaine. So, not only women._

He chanced a glance at Merlin and it seemed their timing was quite in synch because he saw that Merlin was also glimpsing at him through his lashes. Again, both heads snapped in another direction, averting their eyes. Damn it, now the previous awkwardness returned with vengeance.

After a beat of painfully uncomfortable silence, in which Arthur tried and failed to find a topic to talk about (Darn it, he closed many deals because of his conversational skills. Where the fuck had that gone?), Merlin cleared his throat. Arthur finally gathered up the courage to look at him. He thanked the gods that he didn't have to endure any second of that silence.

"So . . . that bloke a friend of yours?" Merlin started tentatively.

"What bloke?" Arthur asked.

"You know . . . the" here, Merlin used of his hands to gesture at the general vicinity of his head. Arthur knew who he was talking about before he even continued. "the one that looked like a shampoo commercial model."

"Why do people always use that to describe him?" Really, when had Merlin had enough time to look at Gwaine? (Well, he wouldn't know, would he, because he was staring dazedly at Merlin the whole time to notice)

Merlin blinked, probably surprised at the slight irritation tinting his tone. " . . . Probably because he looked like a shampoo commercial model?" Merlin was staring at him like he was a particularly slow child. Then, some epiphany alighted his eyes. "Ah, you're jealous of his hair." He nodded sagely. "I understand. I really do. I mean, your goldilocks is working for you, yeah, but his are just so—"

"Finish that sentence, Merlin, and I'll throw this pepper shaker at you to bring you bad luck." Arthur raised a brow, twirling the said shaker on the table, but there was upward tilt to the corner of his lips that he can't remove.

Merlin chuckled, the sound coupled with his expression made Arthur paused for a dazed moment. "First of all, it's supposed to be the salt. Second,  _I'm_  supposed to spill it. And third, I just have to throw a pinch of salt over my shoulder and the bad luck won't happen, rendering your efforts useless." He explained in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Surely something happens if I throw pepper at you?" Arthur questioned in mock consideration, looking at the shaker in his hand.

"Sure. I sneeze for a while, getting germs on that expensive dress shirt of yours." Merlin said, grinning.

"Oh, I don't know. It was Morgana's gift so, you'll be doing me a favor." Arthur retorted, replying with a grin of his own.

Something like horror passed through Merlin's eyes. "Morgana's gift, you say?" He narrowed his eyes, staring at the shirt with the kind of scrutiny that had Arthur blushing for some reason. "Did you check for bugs? Hidden cameras? Suspicious stains that might have been used for witchcraft?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, dropping the shaker on the table. "Of course, who do you take me for? I x-rayed it, held it up in a UV light, dusted it for suspicious prints, and other investigative stuff."

"Ooh, thorough."

Then, both burst out laughing like they had the last time they talked about Morgana's scheming ways. It was even more precious as Arthur could see how Merlin's eyes crinkle with mirth and how his hand came up in a futile effort to stifle his laughter.

"We seriously got off topic." Merlin said. "Who—Wait, was that Gwaine?" Merlin gave a thoughtful frown. "He doesn't look remotely like the drunken pervert you describe him to be."

"'Look' being the keyword, Merlin. Didn't you ever heard that appearances can be deceiving?" Arthur admonished like Merlin was someone naïve.

"Of course. I am currently talking to a good example of that saying. No one would think you're actually a condescending ass."

"And no one would think you're actually an idiot underneath all that . . ." Midway, Arthur realized he didn't have proper ending for that so he just deemed it appropriate to gesture at Merlin's whole being.

The other man crossed his arms, leaned back, and cocked a brow. "I'm waiting for that belated compliment, Arthur."

Arthur rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Don't hold your breath."

They were going back to their usual banter, which got rid of all that awkward nonsense that Arthur never wanted to experience again. Ever.

For the first time since he had invited Merlin for a meet-up, Arthur felt like everything was going to be okay.

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"O. M. G., look at that couple on table 12. C'mon, look, look!" Martha, a part-time waitress that was hired just a few weeks ago, squealed like a little girl she was.

"Stop shaking onto my arm, child. I'm dealing with boiling oil here!" Karen almost shouted shrilly in her panic, eyes focused on the fries she was supposed to be cooking.

Martha thankfully desisted her attempts. Checking if the fries were going to be alright for a while, Karen wiped her gloved hands on her apron. She turned to the still beaming young woman who was currently trying to surreptitiously stare through the glassless window where they give out the orders to the waitresses.

"Okay, what's the deal?" she asked, following her gaze with obvious disinterest.

"It's those two over there." Martha pointed to the two men over a booth by a window.

Karen blinked. She squinted her emerald eyes in an attempt to perhaps change the image she was seeing.

"It's that jerk who's always a ray of sunshine." Note her sarcasm at the last part.

Leila, another waitress who always liked a pretty face, unceremoniously dumped the tray of dishes she had been carrying onto the sink. Then, she hurriedly joined the two of them.

"The cool and rich blonde regular?" she exclaimed excitedly. "Let me see, let me see."

Karen rolled his eyes. These girls always got snagged by handsome guys in suits, no matter what entitled asses they were.

"Who?" Martha asked, confusion evident in her tone.

"Oh, you haven't seen him yet?" Leila said in reply. "Yeah, he did stop coming a few days before you worked here. But anyway, he's been a regular here. Oftentimes comes with his brunette friend who we suspect works as a shampoo commercial model." Leila explained in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Oh, that brunette guy was here earlier." Maria, who was in dishwashing duty, decided to pipe in. "Left as soon as the dark-haired one arrived though."

"Really? I didn't get to see him." Leila sighed in disappointment. "He has a great ass."

"Ahh! My ears!" Galahad dropped to his knees, hands on both sides of his head as he imitated a man possessed. "Oh my god, who said hiring a bunch of hormonal teenage girls was a good idea?"

Leila sneered. "I think you're just jealous because all those boys will come to us before even considering  _you_." She ended with a finger poking Galahad on the chest.

"How many times do I need to tell you that I'm not gay, woman!" Galahad protested.

Maria giggled. "Oh, our gaydar works perfectly, Gala."

Galahad stuttered, opening and closing his mouth like the tuna fish he was supposed to be cooking. Karen sighed. She was getting too old for this.

"But no~" Martha said in whinnying voice, getting everyone's attention. "Look!" She pointed at the table again.

The five people squeezed in to take a closer look. Then, they, sans Martha, blinked slowly, as if not believing their eyes.

"He's smiling." Galahad muttered, a hint of awe in his tone.

"He's  _laughing_. My word, I'd never thought I'll be alive to see the day he got that stick up his arse removed." Maria remarked.

"And he looks even more handsome with those pearly white teeth out!" Leila exclaimed, clasping her hands in a manner fitted for a maiden in a fairytale.

"And I think," Karen started, lifting a finger to gesture to the companion everyone else neglected. "that you are barking up the wrong tree."

Immediately, all heads turned as one to the dark-haired man inanimately talking to the blonde. His hands gestured widely, eyes lighting up to whatever story he was sharing. The blonde was avidly watching and listening, something like fondness evident in his eyes. And if looks at the whole picture, they can see that the atmosphere near table 12 seemed a bit flowery and dreamy.

Their jaws dropped to the floor in incomparable shock.

"Fuck." Leila cursed, eyes wide.

"That's what I've been trying to point out to you lot!" Martha cried out, frustration in her tone. Then, she turned her eyes to the couple again, beaming. "They look so cute. And if what you're telling me about the blonde one is true, it's even more adorable! Imagine, he," Martha gestured to the dark-haired man. "is the only one who's able to make him smile. It's like a romance novel." Martha sighed wistfully.

"What's this about your gaydar working perfectly?" Galahad smirked. Maria proceeded to punch him in the shoulder. Hard.

"But what if it's not actually a date?" Leila tried to reason. "I mean—they could have been friends o-or something!"

Karen snorted. "Yeah, you could see that they're totally friends. If you're blind." Actually, even if you are, you'll be able to smell the flowers and hear the wedding bells even from a mile away.

"Fuck!" Leila cursed again. "There was no sign—no inclination at all!" She gave a resigned sigh. "It's always the handsome ones."

Maria nodded in assent. "Yeah, that dark-haired bloke is also quite dashing." She turned to Galahad. "If this goes on, your kind will get all the good ones and leave nothing for us good women."

"I'm not gay!" Galahad moaned again, but knowing it will always fall on deaf ears.

Karen rolled her eyes so hard, she was surprised not to find it on the floor. These younglings are going to drive her to an early grave.

"Okay, you lot, we're being paid here." Karen chastised, pointedly ignoring the fact she was included in the group. The rest started to go about their duties.

"Wait!" Leila called out. "Let's give them the special Slurp-Prize" She smirked, still a bit bitter from having her dream guy taken from her.  _Nah_ , Karen thought,  _she'll got over it soon enough just like she got over that last boy._

"That could get us into trouble, you know. It's only given to those who request it because,  _you know_." Martha admonished, uncertain eyes wishing for support from the others.

"But the blonde's a regular of ours, right? And as you say, he doesn't smile much." Leila started with a mischievous expression. "But I now he can't see to stop doing so since that other bloke appeared. It's like a congratulatory gift from all of us." No one was convinced that she was doing this out of the kindness of her heart.

"Or we can get killed after." Galahad retorted. "You haven't seen his glare when I put down his order and it just rattled a  _bit_  too loudly." He shuddered at the memory.

"I'm in." Maria said with a giggle. "I don't know about you guys but I would  _love_  to see their expressions, especially the blonde's."

By the girl's statement, an image formed in the heads of the three other people. It was an image of spluttering uptight blonde as the Slurp-Prize was put onto their table. After all, he can hardly get mad with his date just right in front of him.

Everyone exchanged meaningful glances and grinned. Martha wisely edged away but Leila held her by the shoulders before she could get away.

"No, no, Martha. You're their server. You get to deliver it." Leila said with a smile that had Martha freezing in place with fear.

"Revenge is a dish best served cold." Galahad grinned, already turning to work on the Slurp-Prize.

❤•°o.O`•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´ ◇ⓛⓞⓥⓔ◇ `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´O.o°•❤

**Author's Note:**

> And yeah, this is one of my best written fics. Some people gave me advice on how to correct my grammar and I am really thankful. So should I continue this or leave it as it is?
> 
> So, I just learned how to use a cellphone recently. I had embarrassed myself by asking the sales clerk of the difference between a SIM card and a memory card (and that is just so sad). That said, I don't really know much about shortcuts in texts or emoticons. Sorry if their 'conversations' doesn't seem like texts.
> 
> Constructive criticisms are hugged and invited to dinner! Flames are alright as long as you don't hurt anyone else.
> 
> EDIT: So, uh, I decided to continue it afterall. Though updates may be sporadically. Thanks, everyone!
> 
> Have a nice day everyone!
> 
> ~Vividpast


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